Hasta la Vista, Baby
by Kawaii Dream
Summary: Taking him for granted for the biggest regret of Andrés' life. All he wanted was his fashionable Southern Italian, but now, even he was gone. And maybe, just maybe, Lutz can revive his beloved Luciano with a miracle...or Feliciano. Ludwig is not pleased. 2P!talia and 1p!talia-verse, eventual Spamano and GerIta. Cue an angered Spaniard and German from Universe 1.
1. Chapter 1

Rain was coming down quickly; droplets of water sliding down the broken glass and debris of the tattered buildings. A loud ringing was playing through the air. Thunder.

The sky was completely black; clouds covering the beloved sun that seemed to be something people have taken for granted. If the sun came out now, it would be a miracle to everyone. But they all knew...it wasn't possible. Never will light shine onto the land they loved so much, ever again. There was only one explanation as to why. The very ground they were standing on...was disappearing. If the personification of Italy was disappearing, then so would the people of Italy, and the vast land that Italy owned. In this case...both Italies have fallen. Rome and Venice have been destroyed. Their fates have been sealed, and there was only one word to describe it: Disappearance. Every single Italian civilian had accepted their fate, knowing they could not escape. They knew that both Italies were suffering more than they ever did, and will.

With heavy hearts, but with their heads held up high, their damaged Italian flag waved proudly in the air as the people joined hands as well as souls and hearts as they began singing together in harmony and peace.

_"...Fratelli d'Italia_

_L'Italia s'è desta_

_Dell'elmo di Scipio_

_S'è cinta la testa_

_Dov'è la vittoria_

_Le porga la chioma_

_Chè schiava di Roma_

_Iddio la creò_

_Stringia moci a coorte_

_Siam pronti alla morte_

_L'Italia chiamò, sì."_

There was another loud clang of thunder, and another flash of lightning. Though the rain continued to fall, it washed away the dirt and grime off of the people. _"Long live Italia!_" One man shouted, and a chorus of agreements rose from the crowd.

_"Viva l'Italia!"_ A woman chanted, and another flash of lightning blinded them.

_"Viva l'Italia!"_ Joined the men.

_"Viva l'Italia!"_ Joined the elderly.

_"Viva l'Italia!"_ Joined the children.

Nearby in the only building that was able to support itself in the raging storm, two Italian personifications lay on the stoned ground. One was blonde, while the other was a dark red-head. There was a small, breathy chuckle that escaped the blonde's lips.

"...Hehe. Do you hear that, Luci? They're chanting for us."

Luciano coughed up blood, before he clutched his stomach and scowled. "I don't give a shit about them...they're all going to disappear, just like us, Flavio. What's the use of singing the national anthem of Italy, when they're all going to die?"

"Oh, don't be like that, hon!" Flavio managed a weak laugh, "They have hope. Though they know that Italy is falling, they are still showing devotion and love to their country, until the bitter end. At least they're actually accepting that they're going to die. You, on the other hand, seem like you want to kill America, darling. That isn't good for you, you know?"

Light pinkish-purplish eyes narrowed at the mention of America.

"...If I wasn't dying right now, I'd go stab the fuck out of the Allen. He's the one who did this to us, fratello! How can you be all smiles and sunshine, even at the brink of death?! Are you fucking retarded, or something?!" The younger brother shouted in fury, before coughing up more blood, which splattered all over the floor.

The building in which the two personifications were laying down in began to crack and crumble a bit, the sound of rocks falling to the ground resonated within the building. It wasn't going to last any longer.

"...I have no reason to live, dear. That's why, I can leave this world without regrets. When you have no regrets at your last breath, you will smile and accept your fate. However, I guess I'm really just trying to mask the pain and fear by covering it with a cheerful attitude. The truth is, Luciano, I really will miss Andrés. I'm afraid of that very fact, and that's why, I can't show that I regret not being able to hold him at least once in my life. If I showed such an emotion now, God would surely let me live my afterlife as a ghost..." South Italy murmured, his hand beginning to fade to nothing. "And being a ghost...it must be worse than suffering down there, in the underworld. As a ghost, you are forced to watch the people that loved you go through so much pain and misery because they have lost you. It hurts you more than being pierced by a thousand glass pieces. Because even though they're crying and hurting, you're right there...and they will never be able to hear or see you. You can do nothing but stand there and watch them suffer…" He chuckled bitterly, biting his lip to stop the tears from coming.

Luciano only stared at his brother with sad eyes. "...Fratello…"

The older Italian gave a shaky breath, and sighed. "That's why, Luci...don't leave this world with regrets. Even if you do have regrets, try your hardest to conceal them. After all, dying with a smile on your lips will always be better than dying with a horrified, twisted expression. And who knows, maybe if you tried hard enough, God may be tricked by your act and let you go to Heaven, even with your many regrets." He joked a bit, trying to lighten up the mood.

"...But who am I kidding, right? Andy always pushed me away whenever I tried to hug and kiss him...he always gets annoyed when I'm near him. I guess...he'll be happy when I'm dead. Plus, after my long speech, I'm sure now that I really will become a ghost." The blonde grinned widely, once again masking his obvious emotions.

"...Fratello...I have to agree, Andrés is a dick. But it's okay...I'm here with you until the very bitter end, you idiot…" The younger Italian murmured, slowly bringing his hand to his brother's until they intertwined. Flavio smiled at that action. Luciano was never usually that affectionate, it was mostly him who did all of the cute actions. He would've returned the deed, but his other hand was beginning to fade away as well, while Luciano's foot was disappearing, slowly but surely.

"I will smile, but you better do it as well. Or else I will look like a stupid fool, smiling even when I'm slowly dying," said the younger Italian as he chuckled a bit. Flavio also chuckled, the two brothers finally at peace after such a long time.

Soon, Luciano spoke up again, breaking the silence. "I wonder what Lutz will do when I'm gone. He's always been pretty lazy and sloppy without me."

"...I guess we'll find out soon, then, huh? It's too bad you guys never hooked up...you would've made the cutest couple on Earth!" He cooed a bit, gaining a glare from his younger brother that said, 'shut the fuck up or I'll stab you to fucking death, even though we're already going to die, you can still feel pain.' Flavio chuckled and continued speaking, "And we'll finally get to meet Grandpa Rome…" The blonde stated warily, his eyes beginning to fail him as he squinted to see the crumbling ceiling above them.

"But you were the one who killed Gramps, fratello!"

"Little details don't really matter at this point, right? Ahaha. So yes, maybe I did, but I still totally love him lots!" Flavio cracked a grin, and before they knew it, both of his hands were gone, and his arms were on the verge of the same fate. Luciano, on the other hand, had no legs up to his knees.

"Sí, you sure do..." The redhead mumbled, rolling his eyes playfully.

And then it was silent, minus the raging storm outside. The water from the rain began to drip through the small cracks and holes of the ceiling, and they fell onto the two Italians. The two brothers lay there in silence, disappearing very slowly, until only their heads were left.

"...Hey, Luci?" Flavio asked quietly.

"...What is it, fratello?"

"...Say it with me. I can hear the civilians...we should join them with our last breaths."

"...Alright, fine. Just this once, on the count of three, okay?"

"Sí!"

"...One." Luciano breathed.

"Two!" Flavio sang.

"Three!" They both said in unison, before continuing on together as one voice. The voices of and whole of Italy spoke together with their people: "_Viva l'Italia!"_

A flash of white lightning suddenly overcame the remains of Italy and its people, and suddenly, everything and everyone...was gone.

* * *

_BAM!_

A hole in the wall had appeared, caused by a certain, and extremely angered German. "Luciano, you stupid idiot!"

_BAM!_

"What, you think you can just fucking disappear and leave me all alone like this?! Kuhscheiße!"

And then there were two holes, as well as slightly damages knuckles. Lutz Beilschmidt only saw red. He felt the rage build up until he had erupted violently, causing him to smash the wall in and create holes. The German grunted and pulled both of his fists out and growled inhumanely. "Verdammt! I will fucking kill that stupid American! He murdered the Italies! Allen will pay for what he's done...I will avenge Luciano!" Lutz declared boldly in a fit of rage.

Nearby, seated silently on the German's couch, was none other than the emotionless Spaniard named Andrés Fernandéz Carriedo. Of course, he was also raging, but he kept it inside. Instead of showing his emotions, Spain had kept it all in, showing nothing but a blank and cold expression.

"...Shut the fuck up. You're giving me a damn headache, you bastard." Andrês stated, an angered edge to his voice.

Lutz's eyes narrowed in annoyance before he ripped a nearby world map and shoved it right in front of the Spaniard's face. "Look at it closely. What the hell do you think is missing? _ITALY_! Both North _and_ South!" He shouted, shaking the map back and forth. Andres only stared at it, not showing a single twitch of emotion. "They're not even on the fucking map anymore! They're gone, Luciano and Flavio! Don't you even give a damn, you stupid asshole?!"

"...I said, shut the hell up!" The tanned Spaniard snapped, his emotionless wall breaking. His brown eyes narrowed at the German as he stood up and took the map, ripping it into pieces before he threw it all onto the ground. "Listen here, Lutz. I do fucking care, okay? But unlike you, I'm being rational about it, instead of acting like a stupid angry asshole like you! You think I'd be a heartless bastard and just go on with my damned, messed-up life without Flavio, huh?!" He screamed into Lutz's face, surprising the German greatly. Never has he seen so much emotion coming from the other nation before.

Lutz stared at the ripped map on the floor, and slowly pulled his cap down to hide his eyes, guilt bubbling up in his gut. "...Sorry. I think I'll just go and calm down." He grumbled, walking past Andrés and into his room, leaving the Spaniard all alone in the living room.

When the door closed, Andrés sunk back onto the couch, trembling a bit. He just couldn't believe the fact that Flavio was gone, as well as Luciano. Sure, he had treated the Southern Italian like complete shit and ignored him, as well as hurt him many times before, but...the truth was, he was actually very protective and obsessive over him. And now the only person that helped him seem not as emotionless as he appeared to be, was gone. Disappeared. Just like their Grandfather, and Holy Roman Empire. One day, they were there, and the next, they're gone forever, never to be seen again.

Why did it have to end this way? Why couldn't he have just been a little bit nicer to Flavio? The truth was, whenever Flavio had asked him to kiss and cuddle together, he had wanted to go through with his requests. Instead, he pushed the male away and told him that he was annoying. If only he had taken the chance to at least kiss the Italian. Though...it was too late to think such thoughts now. He had taken the blonde for granted...and now, he was paying the price.

As his emotions slipped away from him like water slipped through fingers at this realization, for the first time in so many years and decades, Andrés sat on the couch, put his head in his hands, and sobbed his heart out.

"_Andy, darling~! Please hug me?" A cute blonde Italian pouted, opening up his arms widely with the most adorable expression on his face as he stared up at the Spaniard pleadingly. _

_Andrés stared down at Flavio, expression blank. "...No." He answered grumpily, turning around to work on the roses again._

"_But why? Please, darling? Just one? I won't ask ever again!" Flavio asked again, now a hint of desperation in his voice. He knew, though, that the Spaniard would once again ignore him, like he had all of these past years. Not once had he ever gotten to touch the Spaniard intimately, not even when he was just a young boy. Maybe that's why he had grown up to like to cuddle and touch people around him a lot, because he had never really gotten to be close to anyone when growing up. _

_When the Southern Italian realized that Andres was once again ignoring his pleads and requests, his smile faltered a bit and his eyes flickered to the floor. Curl drooping and arms going back down next to his sides, he sighed. "...Alright, dear...I guess I'll just go shopping for new outerwear. I'll see you later, okay?" _

_As expected, there was no answer from the Spaniard. Eyes downcast, Flavio walked out of the house, tears gently cascading down his face as soon as he left the door. He wiped away his tears with his designer scarf and ran off of Andrés' property, heading straight home to Italy._

_Back inside of the lonely house, Andrés placed the rose he was working on back down on the counter and mustered a small sigh. "...Fuck." Looking down at his finger, he saw that he had cut it. Small amounts of blood began pouring out of the cut, and he hissed when he put his finger under the running tap, which had hot water on. _

As he cleaned up the cut, he never would have thought that that was the last chance he'd ever have to see the energetic Italian, ever again.

Now, looking back at such an event...he regretted everything he had ever done.

* * *

A single cigarette was lit, before puffs of smoke began to emerge from it, and the person smoking the item. Lutz was leaning against the wall of his bedroom, eyes closed as he smoked in a relaxed manner. He was trying his hardest to become calm, and in these kinds of situations, smoking was the only way to make himself clear his brain. Of course smoking was bad, and he knew it himself. However, even though Lutz had promised Luciano he'd stop smoking, Luciano wasn't here anymore to yell at him like he always did, and that's what broke his heart the most.

The German never thought the day would come when he'd actually miss the fiery Italian's screaming and nagging about his smoking habits, and how his room was always always a huge mess whenever he wasn't there to clean it up for him. Why the hell was life so unfair? He hadn't been able to help the Italian in his time time of need, much less say goodbye! Lutz didn't think that the last time he'd see Luciano was when they parted with nothing but a heartless goodbye. They simply walked by each other, nodded, and bowed. If he had only known that was would be the last time he'd be able to see the Italian alive, he would've ran after him him and embrace him tightly, and then…

And then what?

...Now, he would never know. It was all his fault. He didn't even try to help Italy as it disappeared from the face of Earth. He was nothing but a _coward. _Lutz knew in his heart that he would never be able to hear Luciano's quirky insults, or see his confident smirks ever again. Because there was only one thing left to say: Luciano, to put it bluntly, was dead.

Still, he couldn't help but have wishful thinking.

...Wasn't there a way to bring Italy back to life?

'_No, there isn't. The Holy Roman Empire never came back. Neither did the Italies' Grandfather._' A voice echoed in his mind, but he deliberately ignored it. Lutz didn't want to believe that there wasn't a way to retrieve the country of Italy back. There had to be a way, right? For every wrong, there is a right. Yes, that's it. There was only one person to ask, but he wasn't very pleased to think he'd actually have to talk to the psychopath. Though he was the only person who knew about magic...and that was actually good at it, as well. He'd have to remember to kill Allen another time.

As Lutz inhaled and exhaled, more smoke filled the room as he rubbed his temples. "...Alright, I'll go see Oliver, verdammt. But I'm sure as hell not going alone. I'll drag Andrés with me, I'm sure he'd want to go and save the blonde brat." He mumbled to himself, before throwing the cigarette into a random bin and walking out of the door, finally calm and collected again.

It was time to console the other Spanish nation, and buy two tickets to travel to England.

* * *

Feliciano Veneziano Vargas, the personification of Northern Italy. That was who he was. Bubbly, kind, cheerful, happy-go-lucky, innocent, outgoing, talented...the list could go on and on about how great of a person he was, including all of the positive character traits. That was something that he took great pride in, something everyone should be proud of. However, there was something that bothered him, something that made him feel...unsettled. The other day, Feliciano had taken the IQ test on a computer, along with many of the other nations. The Italian had gotten a very high IQ of 131, which was dubbed in the 'very superior intelligence' range. He was very pleased with his score, and immediately skipped over to Germany to tell him how smart he was.

"Ludwig, Luddy! What score did you get?" Asked Feliciano, grinning happily like his usual self as he bounced up and down excitedly.

The German raised an eyebrow at the Italian, blue eyes peering down curiously at him. "I got a 127 on the test. What did you get, Feliciano?"

Feliciano had opened his eyes, revealing amber colored orbs. They were sparkling with happiness. Germany had gotten in the 'very superior intelligence' range as well! Now it feels like they were equals! "I got a score of 131! I can't believe I got a higher score than Ludwig!" He exclaimed, beginning to dance around. "This must be a dream!"

A few nations in the room looked over at the pair, quite shocked that Italy had actually gotten a higher score than Germany. But some thought he was just joking and a murmur of chuckles and giggles rose. This caused the personification of Germany to blush slightly in embarrassment, for having so much infamous attention on him was something he wasn't yet accustomed to. Feliciano, however, did not even notice.

"...Hm. Are you sure you got a score that high? I mean, not that I doubt you, Feliciano, but...it seems quite strange to me," said Ludwig, his eyebrows furrowing with disbelief. "Let me see your score, please, if you don't mind."

The Italian paused in his celebratory dance and gave him a strange look. "...O-Okay, if that's what you want, Luddy. Follow me!"

And so, the two walked over to North Italy's computer, and sure enough, the score was still on the screen, clear as the day.

131.

Ludwig was staring at the screen is shock, before he quickly composed himself again and cleared his throat. "Ahem. I see...that is amazing, Feliciano. It seems I have underestimated your abilities. You are indeed a smart fellow," admitted the German. He felt ashamed that he couldn't bring himself to believe that Italy had gotten a higher score than him, until he saw the proof right in front of him. Though, who could have believed that Italy, the one who put a grenade in his mouth instead of throwing it, the one who built a tank the wrong way, the one who was so oblivious to many things, the one who, instead of fighting, surrendered and ran away, had such high intelligence. It was almost unbelievable. But, Italy was his friend and ally.

'_Next time, I'll believe and trust his words, like a true friend would. I won't stoop as low as this anymore_.' Ludwig vowed to himself mentally, giving a small smile at the beaming Feliciano.

"Wow, Ludwig just praised me! Thank you so much, Luddy!" Feliciano practically shouted out loud for the whole world to hear.

"...Ja. It's no problem," Ludwig replied, coughing slightly with tinted cheeks. It was quite embarrassing to have his praises be taken so seriously, like they were gold medallions or something. But he never really did give out many praises and compliments...so he supposed it was a good thing Italy had enjoyed it.

"I know! I'll go make some pasta as a celebration! I'll be right back!" Exclaimed the Italian, as he rushed out of the doors before Ludwig could even respond. The German laughed lightly to himself at the overly-excited Italian.

"He's really something, isn't he?" He muttered to himself, a look of nostalgia in his eyes, as if he were remembering something from long ago.

* * *

North Italy hummed to himself as he cooked his beloved pasta. Feliciano hummed a happy tune as he cooked, throwing in the ingredients like the professional he was, and the pasta was ready in no time. "Hm...I wonder what score fratello got," he wondered aloud as he poured the sauce onto the noodles. Feliciano had prepared two plates of pasta: one for Ludwig, and one for himself. He'd make some for Lovino and Antonio later if they wanted some, too.

The nice aroma of pure deliciousness filled his nostrils as the dishes were completed. "Mmm, I really do love pasta," he hummed happily, inhaling the scent as his stomach rumbled a bit. Picking up the two plates, he pushed the door open with his back and casually walked over to the meeting room again, rushing to serve pasta while it was still cooked and new. As the door came into view, he was about to burst through them, but stopped right in his tracks when he heard something that made his curl droop.

"I mean, like, do you really believe Italy got a 131 as his IQ? It seems impossible! He couldn't be smarter than Germany!" A voice whined within the room. Feliciano realized that it was Poland who was speaking. "And he can't be more intelligent than me, either! Actually, like, no one can be more intelligent than me! Isn't that right, Lithy?"

"H-Huh? But, that's kind of mean to say, don't you think?" Lithuania asked, trying his hardest not to offend the other fabulous nation. Feliks' face scrunched up with disappointment, and he was about to retort a response.

That's when France intervened and spoke up, "Now, now, mon ami! Don't be so mean to cute little Feliciano! Sure, he may be a bit of an airhead sometimes, but he's capable of doing things himself, you know. He may not act like it, but he is quite intelligent, as much as that seems impossible," stated the Frenchmen.

England joined in on the conversation, "Yes, he is quite the stupid git. I've escaped Italy plenty of times myself, in the perfect disguise!" Arthur declared, straightening his posture to show off his pride.

"Hahaha! That's only because you were rescued by me, the hero!" Alfred exclaimed, patting (hitting) the Brit on the back with a wide grin on his face. "You would've never escaped, if it wasn't for me! Italy is no match for us Americans! He wasn't smart enough to see me coming!"

"Ah...Alfred-san, please don't be so mean to Feliciano-san. I do admit, I was also quite shocked to hear that he was very smart, but that doesn't mean you should be calling him unintelligent. That is very rude," Kiku interjected, defending his friend.

As the remaining nations bickered on and argued about how 'intelligent' Italy was, the nation backed away from the door, eyes wide with shock. So that's what everyone really thought of him. Unintelligent? Sure, he was sometimes oblivious to the things around him, and sure, he might of messed things up and acted like an airhead...but, that didn't mean he wasn't smart. Did everyone really think he was that stupid? Did he actually _act_ that idiotic?

Giving a small whimper, Feliciano quickly placed the plates on a table that was near the door, and ran off to a private room, slamming the door behind him.

The Italian slid down the door, curling up into a small ball. Was it that hard to believe that he had a high IQ of 131? Maybe he should start acting more serious...more...sophisticated. Instead of running away, he should fight. Yes...that's right. That was what he wanted! Then, he could protect all of his friends, and he'd become a strong and big country that Germany and Japan would be proud of! Along with his big brother Romano! But it all felt so unrealistic...how could he act so serious all of the time? How could he become strong?

"It's really easy, poppet. You don't even need to ask!"

Feliciano's eyes shot open as he sat straight up, his amber orbs darting from left to right across the room. "W-What? Who's there?"

"Shh, be calm, my sweet. You want to become a strong nation, yes? You want to prove everyone that you are indeed, quite intelligent, correct?" The voice cooed. It was as sweet as sugar, so hypnotizing…

"S-Si...I do...I want to become even more capable of myself. I want to please Ludwig and Kiku…" North Italy found himself saying as he began to slowly stand up in an entranced manner.

"Then come...come, and I will help you. We need you here, North Italy. I will help you become the person you truly wish to be. Follow my voice, poppet…" The strange voice echoed in his ears, making him walked towards the bathroom in the room. His footsteps were slow and steady, his expression slowly became blank.

"...Come, child…"

Soon enough, Feliciano was standing in front of the bathroom's mirror. Without even knowing what he was doing, he slowly touched the mirror.

His hand went right through. He gasped at the sudden tingling feeling that he felt throughout his body.

"...Dont' be afraid. I will help you become the person you wish to be. In return, you will help us…Come, dear. Enter our world. Quickly, before it's too late…"

Regaining his posture, the Italian nodded and climbed onto the sink…

...And jumped right through the mirror, before everything went black.

* * *

"Oliver, open the door! We're here to ask you a favor!" Lutz's strong voice shouted as he pounded on the door. "Open up, verdammt!"

A cheerful voice soon replied from the inside, "Hehehe! It looks like I have visitors today~! How nice to see you, my cute little cupcakes! Come in, come in!" As soon as he finished his sentence, the door unlocked by itself and opened slightly.

Lutz quickly slammed the door open and marched right inside, Andrés following behind him. His eyes scanned the room, and he spotted Oliver casually sipping a cup of tea on the sofa in the living room. The two nations walked right over to the Brit.

"Alright, I'll keep this short!" The German said in his loudest voice, "We need you to-"

"Shhhh!" Oliver quickly hushed him, shooting him a glare. "Be quiet! I have another guest, he's sleeping upstairs! You'll wake him up with that ridiculously loud voice of yours, German!" He whispered, placing his cup of tea back onto the table. "It would be quite helpful if you would lower your voice, dear."

The Spaniard and the German looked at each other, giving each other confused looks. Who the hell in their right mind, would actually sleep over at this psycho's house? Andres just shrugged it off, before returning his attention to the Brit.

"Uh, fine...But I need you to tell us a way to revive Italy!" Lutz half yelled, half whispered.

Oliver smiled as his expression darkened. "Italy, you say? But why would you need to revive Italy, when Italy is already here?" He took a map and laid it on the table, "See? I don't understand what you're getting at, but you must be crazy, poppet!" He gave a demented giggle as he laughed by himself.

"What?!" Exclaimed Lutz, as he grabbed the map from the table and stared at the spot Italy was in.

...North Italy...was on the map.

How...in the world?

Andrés quickly snatched the map from Lutz and stared at it, long and hard. There was a long pause before he scowled and growled out, "...Where...is South Italy?" He asked menacingly.

"Before you answer that, does this mean Luciano is alive?!" Germany asked frantically, losing his cool. "Answer me, you stupid, crazy Brit!"

"Calm down, dearie. Luciano is dead. South Italy...well, he is harder to get than North." Oliver stated nonchalantly, crossing his leg over onto his other one without a care in the world.

"What the hell do you mean, Luciano is dead?! If he really is dead, why is North Italy suddenly back on the map, huh?! Explain!" Lutz slammed his fist on the table, a demanding look in his eyes. He was glaring holes through Oliver, now.

"Hmm, I wonder~!" The Brit evaded every question, "Oh, I know! You should go visit my friend upstairs! But remember, he's sleeping, so be very quiet!" He winked suggestively, "And while you're at it, please don't jump him, or do whatever your boner tells you to do! I'm sure he'd be terrified of you, Lutz~! First room on the right!"

Suddenly, everything clicked in his mind and he quickly rushed upstairs, barging right into the first room on the right hallway. His breath fell short when he saw who was sleeping soundly on the bed, as if the whole world never existed. He felt the world stop spinning for a split second, and his heart rate picked up.

"Lu-Luciano?!"

* * *

Italy's National Anthem: Translation

_Brothers of Italy,_  
_Italy has awakened;_  
_Scipio's helmet_  
_she has put on her head._  
_Where is the Victory? (ref. 1) _  
_Offer her the hair; (ref. 2)_  
_because slave of Rome_  
_God created her._

_Let us unite!_  
_We are ready to die;_  
_Italy called._

_x~x_

___"Viva l'Italia!" - Long Live Italy!_

___x~x_

___Luciano, second player North Italy._

___Flavio, second player South Italy._

___Lutz, second player Germany._

___Andres, second player Spain._

___Allen, second player America._

___Oliver, second player England._

* * *

This story will have GerIta and Spamano, eventually. Thank you for reading, I will update as soon as I can.

~Kawaii Dream


	2. Chapter 2

Within the period that Feliciano was cooking pasta, Lovino Romano Vargas was doing other things, with a certain Spaniard. No, they weren't doing what you think!

"Shut the fuck up, bastard. I just can't believe that you're _actually_ smarter than me, dammit! So stop rubbing it in my face!" Cursed the fiesty Italian as he glared at Antonio icily.

Antonio pouted slightly, "But, Lovi! I'm not rubbing it in your face!" He denied, but suddenly, the Spaniard's expression became much more seductive before he whispered, "But I can rub something else near your cute little bottom if you wanted me to," he cooed, leaning in towards Lovino in a sexy manner.

This action caused the Southern Italian to become a tomato red and he squeaked (in the most manly way possible) out loud as he jumped backwards in attempt to avoid Antonio's advances. "W-What the hell is your problem, you asshole?! Who the fuck would actually want to be fucked by an idiot like you? N-Not that I care, or anything!"

Antonio gave a goofy, knowing grin and leaned back. "Alright, Lovi! Whatever you say~!"

You see, Lovino Vargas had gotten an IQ of 131. Antonio, on the other hand, got a 139. That's basically saying that Spain was almost at a genius, Einstein level of intelligence. Which, Lovino couldn't really bring himself to believe.

Spain was supposed to be a stupid, oblivious goofball that could never read the atmosphere or anything! How the hell did he get 139? Seriously, was Antonio hiding something that he didn't know about? A secret personality of some sort, perhaps? Though he was curious, there was no way in hell he was actually going to ever ask. That'd be too fucking embarrassing!

Lovino was about to reply in the rudest way possible, before he heard something that made him stop halfway.

"I mean, like, do you really believe Italy got a 131 as his IQ? It seems impossible! He couldn't be smarter than Germany!" A voice whined from across the room. This made Romano's blood boil. How _dare_ they call his stupid brother stupid?!

Okay, fine. Sure, his brother was idiotic, but Feliciano was smarter than the potato bastard _any _day. Speaking of 131...they got the same score. Well, brothers will be brothers, right? Did that mean he was smarter than the potato bastard, too? Fuck yes! Now he can rub it in that German's face!

"And he can't be more intelligent than me, either! Actually, like, no one can be more intelligent than me! Isn't that right, Lithy?"

"Lovi? What's wrong?" Asked an oblivious Antonio, blinking innocently with his emerald hues.. Of course. This is why people would have to question why in the world his IQ was 139. Seriously.

Growling, the Italian turned to the Spaniard. "The so-called '_fabulous'_ bastard just called my little brother _stupid!' _He exclaimed furiously, throwing a fit. _Nobody_ called Feliciano stupid unintentionally without being lectured by big brother Romano!

"H-Huh? But, that's kind of mean to say, don't you think?" Lithuania asked, trying his hardest not to offend the other fabulous nation. Feliks' face scrunched up with disappointment, and he was about to retort a response. At that moment, Romano decided that he wasn't going to kill Lithuania. He was a nice guy in the Italian's book.

That's when France intervened and spoke up, "Now, now, mon ami! Don't be so mean to cute little Feliciano! Sure, he may be a bit of an airhead sometimes, but he's capable of doing things himself, you know. He may not act like it, but he is quite intelligent, as much as that seems impossible," stated the Frenchmen.

England joined in on the conversation, "Yes, he is quite the stupid git. I've escaped Italy plenty of times myself, in the perfect disguise!" Arthur declared, straightening his posture to show off his pride.

"Hahaha! That's only because you were rescued by me, the hero!" Alfred exclaimed, patting (hitting) the Brit on the back with a wide grin on his face. "You would've never escaped, if it wasn't for me! Italy is no match for us Americans! He wasn't smart enough to see me coming!"

"Ah...Alfred-san, please don't be so mean to Feliciano-san. I do admit, I was also quite shocked to hear that he was very smart, but that doesn't mean you should be calling him unintelligent. That is very rude," Kiku interjected, defending his friend.

And then there was a loud _BAM!_

Heads turned towards the direction of the sound, the room suddenly deathly quiet. South Italy was glaring at the group that was bickering on and on about how surprised they were that his brother was smart. First, he'd have them know, Feliciano was smarter than he acted!

...He just didn't know about Spain.

"You're all stupid bastards! Shut the hell up already! How _dare_ you speak so lowly about Feliciano while his _brother_ is in the fucking _room!_" Shouted South Italy, completely angered about the whole 'Italy is not smart' ordeal. He was infuriated at this point, and he had had enough. "At least _try_ to show that you care a _little bit_ by talking about it where his brother isn't in the room, you assholes! Fuck you all!" Lovino fumed angrily.

The nations in the room looked guilty, turning heads towards each other in a silent agreement to apologize.

Cue a certain Spaniard. "Lovi...don't be so mean, it's okay. I'm sure that they didn't mean to sound so rude, right, mi amigos?" Antonio asked, looking desperately over at his friends. He didn't want Lovino to be angry, plus, he was also a bit angry at Francis for joining in on the conversation, even if his words weren't mean at all. He believed that Feliciano was smart, just like his cute little tomate was.

"Ah...oui, we didn't mean to sound so rude towards cute little Feli. We apologize for that," Francis spoke up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Yeah, dude. We didn't mean to be mean or anything! Sorry! Right, Iggy?" Alfred asked, nudging the Brit.

Arthur cleared his throat and nodded a yes. "Ahem. Yes, we do apologize. It's all this git's fault." His eyes travelled over to Alfred, glaring at him accusingly. The English man didn't really like being called...'Iggy'.By all means, he was _not _a bloody _Igloo_, if that was what America was trying to imply...even though he did know it was just a short nickname for 'England'.

"Hey! It was clearly that guy's fault!" Alfred stated, pointing over at Feliks.

"What?! Like, no it wasn't! I'm like, too fabulous to have _anything_ at fault!" Retorted the sassy country.

"C-Calm down, please everyone, calm down!" Kiku said desperately, trying to contain the commotion to a minimum. His attempts did not work, however, as the nations continued to bicker on and argue like always.

Lovino only groaned and became even more irritated by all of the chatter. Of course, he was feeling slightly better since they had apologized, but he was still annoyed as fuck by their endless talking.

"See, Lovi? They really didn't mean it~! We're all amigos here! I'm sure Feli is smarter than most people here!" Antonio grinned, trying his best to cheer the Italian up.

South Italy shot the Spaniard a harsh glare, as if he was...offended by his comment. "Shut up the hell up, stupid tomato bastard! Yes, I'm _so_ sure that Feliciano is smarter than a lot of these damned idiots here..._Even me._" He paused and mumbled the last part so quietly, that it was practically inaudible to Antonio's ears, especially with all of the talking going on in the room.

"Hmm? Did you say something else at the end of your last sentence, mi tomate?" The personification of Spain asked curiously with a hum, still quite oblivious to most things in the world.

The Southern Italian only looked away, scowling. "No, you jerk. I didn't say a _thing._"

Antonio looked at Lovino curiously, before merely shrugging off the other's sudden strange behavior. "Okay, whatever you say, mi querido. Remember, Boss is always here if you need someone to talk to!"

"Tch. Whatever." Replied an annoyed Lovino.

"Hey, like, did anybody notice that Germany isn't even here?" Feliks suddenly asked, looking around the room. "I was going to ask him if he like, thought Italy was totally smarter than he looks, or something."

"...Ah, I do believe that Ludwig-san said he was going to go to check on Feliciano-san. It is quite strange...Feliciano-san usually doesn't take this long to make pasta. I wonder if something happened?" The Japanese man stated curiously.

Just then, the door to the meeting room opened, and a certain blonde German walked in, his blue eyes scanning around the room, as if searching for something...or someone.

"Hello, Ludwig-san. How is the pasta with Feliciano-san doing?" Kiku greeted.

"...Hm?" The German asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. "Feliciano wasn't in the kitchen. I thought he was already done cooking his pasta, so I came back here to look for him." Ludwig stated, "But I saw two plates of steaming pasta sitting right outside of the room. Do you know where he's gone?"

"Feliciano left perfectly fine _pasta _out in the open, without eating it?!" Lovino suddenly interrupted the conversation, scowling at the German as usual. "I know my stupid little brother! He would _never_ abandon food, especially _pasta_, of all things! I don't fucking believe you, you bastard!"

The personification of Germany just sighed, obviously used to Lovino's attitude towards him, and gestured towards the door, "If you don't believe me, go and see for yourself. Feliciano has cooked pasta for me before, I know what his pasta is like. It is his, and it was left right outside the door."

"Fine then, I'll go fucking look! You'd better be right, damn potato! No one knows his pasta more than me, I'm his older brother!" The older Italian brother proclaimed, before shoving Ludwig out of the way and walking out of the door. Turning his head toward the right, right on the table, was two plates of steaming and untouched pasta. The smell...it smelled _exactly_ like Feliciano's cooking, no doubt. Hell, the pasta even _looked_ like it was cooked by Feliciano. Don't ask how he knows, if the potato knew by looking, then he knew it as well. There was no further explanation as to how he knew. It was probably just a brotherly instinct, or something. But that pasta was _definitely_ Feliciano's.

But, wait...If it was his brother's pasta, then where the _hell_ did his brother go?! Lovino Romano Vargas knew for a fact, that if Feliciano should _ever _abandon food or pasta, then something was truly wrong.

And the German bastard did say that he couldn't find Feliciano anywhere.

Fucking shit.

Feliciano was in trouble, he could _feel_ it...He didn't know how, but he felt something was off about all of this. There was this tingling sensation he felt, or something...Like someone was watching him silently. Hell, just _standing_ outside in the hall alone felt wrong.

...No, wait...For some reason, Lovino felt tired…

He felt like...someone was calling him somewhere…

...Someone...was calling…

He had to...go…

Private...room…

...Bathroom.

Mirror.

Slowly but surely, South Italy was walking towards one of the rooms at the end of the hall. His mind was blank, except for that one feeling, that one voice…

He was getting closer. He was almost there.

Maybe, if he followed the voice, he'd find Feliciano.

"...Come, Lovino. Feliciano is waiting for you, dear…"

...Feliciano...needed him.

Lovino Romano Vargas was being needed...It felt like a dream come true. He would have never thought _him _of all people would be wanted. People always called him mean, cold-hearted, useless…

But now, Feliciano needed him. It must truly be fate turning for the best.

Lovino had reached the end of the hall, his hand reaching out to touch the doorknob. With a blank expression, he slowly turned-

"Lovi!"

Suddenly, the Italian snapped out of his trance, like someone had snapped their fingers and everything was normal again.

"H-Huh? What was I…" He asked out loud, confusion written all over his face. Before he could completely remember what the hell he was doing, Antonio had ran down the hall and tackled him ferociously into a hug, catching Lovino off guard.

"Loviiii! What were you doing? We kept asking if you were done checking since you were taking so long, but you wouldn't answer! I thought something had happened to you!" Antonio whined, crushing his favorite Italian into a hug, in which Lovino responded by struggling to get out of it.

"Fuck off, bastard! Maybe I could tell you if you let...go...of me!" He had finally managed to break free from the Spaniard and huffed, trying to smooth down his wrinkled clothes. Antonio was pouting and whining about not being able to hold his 'cute little tomate'! In which Romano responded by punching the idiot in the face.

As the personification of Spain was rubbing his cheek, where he was punched, Lovino began to speak. "Alright, bastard...I think something bad happened to Feliciano."

Antonio looked a bit surprised, but decided not to ask how Lovino knew. Believe it or not, he trusted Lovino will all of his heart, and never wanted to doubt him. Ever. "Eh? What happened to Feli?"

Lovino looked down at the ground, shoving his hands down into his pockets. "That's the fucking problem. I don't know what happened to that stupid idiot, but it isn't good. The potato bastard said that he can't find Feliciano, so maybe he was kidnapped or something. I swear, if someone lays a finger on my little brother…" He growled threateningly.

Antonio knew that Lovino was overprotective of Feliciano, just like he was overprotective with his former henchmen. That's why, he decided, he'd help Lovino no matter what. "Okay, Lovi. I'll help you find Feli. After all, without Feli, everyone would be sad!" He grinned cheerfully, trying to lighten up the mood.

That's when something flashed within the Southern Italian's eyes...an emotion that Antonio couldn't read. He decided not to comment on it.

"...Yeah." Lovino mumbled, seemingly a bit sad. Before the Spaniard could say something, someone yelled inside of the meeting room.

"WHAT?! THAT CAN'T BE TRUE!"

"LET ME SEE!"

Both Antonio and Lovino made eye contact at the moment, silently agreeing that they should go back to the room to see what was causing all of the ruckus inside.

"What's going on?" Antonio asked as his popped his head inside the room, before the Italian behind him pushed him in, making the Spaniard stumble a bit before he regained his balance again. He grinned sheepishly.

"Go and see for yourself." Arthur coolly replied, nodding his head toward the world map that was hanging up in the world meeting room.

Spain and Romano looked at everyone curiously, before the pair walked over to the map. The other nations stepped aside and made way for them to see.

Their eyes scanned the map, trying to see what was wrong with it. Alas, Lovino's eyes landed where Italy was at, before his eyes widened. Antonio seemed to notice it too, because he was silently staring at one spot.

Right there, in place of North Italy…

Was nothing.

* * *

"Lu-Luciano?" Lutz exclaimed, staring with wide eyes at the sleeping Italian. That person who was sleeping on the bed...it was Luciano, wasn't it?! It had to be!

Rushing over to the bed, Lutz grabbed the person by their shoulders and began to shake them back and forth violently, almost desperately. "Luciano! Luciano, wake the fuck up! You're alive, I knew you'd live!"

"Ve…!" Feliciano's eyes snapped open, hearing the familiar German voice. Usually, he wouldn't have woken up, since he always slept through everything, but...for some reason, Ludwig always managed to wake him. "Veeee! Ludwig, s-stop! I'm awake, please, I'm sorry for sleeping through the meeting again, please don't hurt meeeeee!" He cried for mercy.

Lutz's eyes widened immediately at the strange, girly voice and crying. He stopped shaking the Italian, peering down at him curiously. "...Luciano?"

Feliciano stared right back at him. "Luciano? Who is that? Ludwig, are...w-wait! You're not Luddy!" North Italy finally realized that Ludwig didn't have scars on his face. He also didn't wear hats often! His eyes weren't purple! They were supposed to be blue!

That's when the German released his grip on...whoever the fuck that was. It wasn't Luciano, and that's all that mattered. "Who are you, and why are you trying to disguise yourself as Luciano?!" Lutz demanded, glaring at the stranger on the bed.

Shivering a bit in fear, Feliciano began to talk, "I'm Feliciano Veneziano Vargas! I'm the personification of North Italy, I like pasta and kittens and cats, every flower is my favorite flower, my favorite color is white because white means surrendering, I like to take siestas, and I'm not trying to disguise as this 'Luciano' person-"

"My, my...Lutz, my dear poppet...You don't just interrogate people right after waking them up. In fact, waking them up isn't polite at all." Oliver suddenly appeared in the room, effectively cutting Feliciano off. He tsked and frowned disapprovingly at Lutz, "You don't have any manners at all. Perhaps I should teach you some...First, I shall teach you how to cook!"

"Shut the hell up, you psychotic Brit! This stupid guy just told me he was the personification of North Italy! Is that true?!"

"If I am a psycho, then I shouldn't know the answer~!" The Brit giggled out loud.

Feliciano was very, very confused and scared right now. Who were these people? The German looked like Ludwig...the other person wearing pink looked like Arthur...But they weren't! How was that even possible? And who was Luciano?

Lutz grit his teeth, annoyed as fuck at Oliver. He was about to say something, but that's when the door opened and Andrés entered the room, his cold eyes staring at Feliciano.

The Italian's eyes widened at the sight of Andres. Wasn't that Big Brother Spain?! Finally, a familiar face!

He opened his mouth and smiled, "Big Brother To-"

"Feliciano Veneziano Vargas...you are to help us get South Italy back as well. No questions, no comments. You are to do what you are told, and we will let you live." Andrés said icily, no emotions in his voice.

Just coldness.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter, I was kind of busy. But I'll try to make it longer next time. Also, I humbly thank you everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed. I wasn't planning on trying to update every Friday, but you guys motivated me, and I really do enjoy writing this story. So from now on: I will be trying my best to update every single Friday. If I miss a Friday, then it means I as busy.

Also, I am changing the rating and making it M. I do believe I'll be writing smut in the future...I'm not sure. But it's just to be safe, and for Lovino's beautiful, one-of-a-kind language that I absolutely love.

Thanks for reading, expect another update in a week.

~Kawaii Dream


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone. I hope you all read my author's note at the end, it's pretty important! Now, enjoy!

* * *

Flashback

_The young, Italian nation had messed up again. He had shattered a vase, and now that bastard, Spain, was going to punish him. Fucking damn it all. _

"_I guess I should try to clean this stupid mess up before that bastard finds out…" Lovino grumbled to himself as he got on his knees and began to slowly pick up the pieces of the glass. One at a time, careful not to cut himself, he placed them on a small platter, his emerald eyes focused completely on the task at hand. He was doing well, just one more piece, and-_

"_ROMANO! Boss is home!" _

CRASH!

"_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-" _

"_Romano! Where are you? What was that noise?"_

"_Fuck, fuck-" The chibi half nation had cut his finger, and it was bleeding. Not to mention, because the idiot had suddenly slammed open the door and yelled, he had jumped in surprised, startled, and bumped into the platter. Which caused all of the glass shards he had worked so hard to gather break into even small pieces and surrounded him. Why did _dio _hate him so? _

_Spain had entered the room, his eyes widening at the scene in front of him. Scattered glass shards, Romano sucking on his finger with small tears in his eyes, a platter, and a missing vase. He sighed._

"_Roma, did you break the vase again?" _

_Romano shook his head no. _

_The Spaniard walked over to Romano, the glass crunching under his boots as he squatted down so that he was eye level with the small child. With soft eyes, he smiled, patting Romano's head lovingly. "It's okay to say you did, Romano. I won't be angry at you. I realize now that you must really want to be loved, right?" _

_Romano's eyes widened at those words, finger still in his mouth as he shook his head no again, tears running down his chubby cheeks. _

_Spain only nodded in understanding, grabbing Romano's arm, pulling his finger out of his mouth. "Here, Boss will take care of it." He then took the nation's finger and put it in his own mouth, sucking on it lightly with a grin. _

_This caused Romano to blush profusely, looking away. "B-Bastard! I...I can take care of it on my own! I don't need you to help me suck my own finger and blood, dammit!" _

_Popping the finger out of his mouth, Spain only took out a band-aid out of his pocket and wrapped it around the younger nation's finger, "There. All done!" He beamed._

"_Fuck you." _

_The Spaniard only beamed even more at those words, grinning like a complete idiot. "You know, Roma...you should depend on me more."_

"_What?!"_

"_I know you are capable of defending yourself, but...I would fail as your Boss if I didn't even try to defend you. You know I will always prefer you over Italy. You are so strong, my precious Romano. You try to do everything yourself, no matter what happens. You never want to depend on anyone else, and even if you're hurt, you keep trying. If that's not strong, I don't know what is." Spain said, running his hand through the Southern Italian's hair. _

_Romano, well...he was speechless. There were only more tears that came, more sobs as he clinged to Spain, crying into his shirt. _

_Maybe...just maybe...he'll try to depend on this sorry excuse of a bastard._

"_I fucking-I fucking hate you," he hiccupped, voice muffled through Spain's shirt._

"_Shh, shh...I love you too, Roma." Spain whispered, humming quietly. _

"_...Do you really mean it, bastard?"_

"_Si. With all of my heart. I'll never leave you for Ita-chan." _

_And that's when Romano had decided to himself that maybe, this stupid idiot wasn't that bad after all. _

* * *

Present

Lovino's hands clenched into fists as he struggled to remain calm. His whole form was trembling violently, and everyone could tell that he was trying very hard to not panic right then and there.

Antonio noticed this, and immediately began to pat the Italian on the head, running his fingers through the brunette's hair soothingly. At first, Lovino tensed at the sudden affection from the Spaniard, but he eventually gave in and leaned towards his hand, relaxing a bit...as embarrassing as it was in front of all of the other nations around them.

"Shh, shh...it's alright, _mi amor._ You are doing well. We have yet to find out what happened, after all. For all we know, someone could have...colored over North Italy with a marker, right?" Antonio offered hopefully, looking around the room to see if anyone would support his statement.

Nobody said a word. Eyes flickered to the floor, or up to the ceiling, having no one to support the Spaniard's suggestion.

Lovino growled and quickly smacked the Spaniard's hand away from his head, suddenly aware of all of the stares they were getting in the room as his cheeks grew red.

"Shut the fuck up, bastard! As if someone would make it look like North Italy disappeared as a prank! That's just going way too damn far!" He stated, glaring at everyone in the room with distaste, "And if someone really did do that, they'd better fess up _now_, or I'll fucking kill them with my own hands! Better yet, I'd even bring in the fucking mafia!"

"C-Calm down, Lovi! It was only a small suggestion!" Antonio said, desperately trying to calm down the now enraged Italian, who was threatening every single person in the room, even Ivan, to confess their deeds.

"Was it _you_, eyebrows?!" Lovino accused as he stood in front of Arthur, jabbing a finger at the Brit's chest with anger flaring in his eyes.

Arthur only returned the glare and crossed his arms over his chest to prevent himself from getting too violent. After all, he _was_ a gentleman, and took great pride in it. Gentlemen were supposed to keep a cool head and act appropriately at all times.

"What makes you think it's me, you wanker? I haven't done anything suspicious at all!"

The Italian only scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "Your _eyebrows_ are reason enough to make you look suspicious, asshole!"

Suddenly, as if a line had been crossed, the blonde stood up straight and looked Lovino right in the eye, "What did you just say about my eyebrows?!"

"That's right, you heard me! Your eyebrows are so fucking huge, it's like an obvious message saying that you had something to do with the disappearance of my little brother, you son of a bitch!"

"_Why you little-!_"

"Lovi, stop!"

"Arthur, calm yourself, mon ami!"

Antonio and Francis quickly stepped between the two males that were practically at each other's throats. The Spaniard pulled the Italian back and held him tightly, making Lovino even more irritated than he already was.

"Let go, bastard! It's obvious that that sorry excuse of a magic freak had something to do with this! It's written all over his eyebrows!" He thrashed around in Antonio's vice-like grip, unable to break free as he struggled.

Francis had managed to snap the Brit out of his angered state. "That's right, you said you're a gentleman, oui? Gentlemen do not participate in fights unless necessary."

Arthur visibly stilled and his shoulders fell. "..Yes, you're right. Sorry, I was in the wrong this time." He admitted with a sigh.

"Woah, Artie! You usually never get all angered like that!" Alfred commented loudly, staring at the Englishman in wonder. "You should do it more often! I think you actually looked cool for once, hahaha!"

"I don't need your side commentary, Alfred." Arthur replied coolly, straightening his posture again.

"I wouldn't have minded if they continued the fight. It looked like it would have been interesting, da?" Ivan smiled widely, holding his trusty pipe in his hand as some kind of aura came from him.

Lovino continued to try to break free from Antonio, but was unsuccessful. Too tired to continue, he gradually calmed down, panting a bit from all of the energy he had used. "Ba...Bastard…" He managed to groan out between breaths.

Antonio only grinned and squeezed his former henchmen happily. "I can be pretty strong when I want to be, Lovi!"

"Shut up." Lovino grumbled stubbornly, "Just let me go. I'm not going to fuck shit up anymore, dammit."

"Promise~?"

"Just let me go, bastard!"

With that, Antonio released his arms from him, putting his arms back to his side.

Scowling now, Lovino glared at the ground once again, not saying a word.

"...I think we should all look for Feliciano. Italy, I mean." Ludwig stated calmly, breaking the silence.

Kiku was surprised to see the German so calm. Weren't he and Feliciano great friends? But, nonetheless, the Japanese male agreed with him with a small nod. "Yes, that would be the best idea now. I don't believe it is possible for a nation to just disappear into thin air. He must be somewhere around here. We must have faith," he encouraged.

"Si! I will do my best to help find Feli-chan! I have to find him!" Antonio agreed with great enthusiasm, not noticing the Italian next to him who had flinched slightly at those words.

"B-Bastard. We _all _have to find him! Not just you!" Lovino said, finally resting his eyes on the Spaniard beside him instead of the great and interesting floor.

"That's what I meant!"

"Oh, just shut up."

Ludwig cleared his throat and all went silent again. "Anyhow, we must ask for everyone's cooperation. Losing a nation is never a good thing...knowing Italy, he would never just leave without informing anyone. He must be in grave danger."

"Then I, the hero, will-" Alfred started.

"Be quiet, you git." Arthur interrupted, as if he had expected the American to start speaking sooner or later. Which, he probably did.

"I will cooperate." Ivan smiled, "I will not just sit back and watch another nation die or disappear. We are all comrades, da?"

Slowly, everyone nodded, some a bit surprised at the lack of an evil aura surrounding the Russian. Perhaps he really was a good person at heart, when the time came.

"Good. It seems everyone is agreeing so far. So, all of us will send investigators and police officers from our country to look for him, alright? Any objections?" The German asked, looking around the room.

There was none. Even though a certain Southern Italian wanted to argue about Ludwig being in charge, he had bit back his tongue and stayed silent.

"Then, this meeting is dismissed two hours early. Finding Italy is our top priority at the moment. Though, please do not go back to your country just yet. We should all stay together when there is a case like this...I am hoping that Mr. South Italy would let us stay here in Rome for the night?"

"...Fine, potato bastard. Everyone can stay here at the conference building. I don't have any idea why the fuck it has over thirty spare bedrooms, but it'll work. Pick a room and sleep. That's all." Lovino grumbled, not used to ordering people around. It's not like people ever listened to his words everyday...in fact, people would usually ignore him and his unruly cursing.

Murmurs of agreements were heard as everybody shuffled out of the meeting room, Ludwig gave a curt and polite nod to Lovino as he passed by, in which the Italian responded with a small nod back. The German seemed a bit surprised at the motion, but respect shone in his eyes for the other before he left the room. Sure, he hated the potato bastard's guts, but...he knew that his stupid little brother loved him. Lovino, as the older brother, wasn't blind. The least he could do was be just a _little bit_ kind to him. Just a _teeny, tiny_ bit.

Finally, when everyone was gone, Lovino winced as he grit his teeth. Limping over to the desk, he grunted in pain as _it_ overwhelmed him, sweat trickling down his neck. Suddenly, he heard someone enter the room, which caused him to abruptly stand up straight, every trace of pain gone from his face and posture. Who the hell would come back in here?!

"Lovi! Are you okay?!"

Oh. It was just the stupid tomato bastard.

Lovino made a face of distaste as he nodded, "I'm fine, bastard. What the fuck do you want now?"

Concern was written all over the Spaniard's face as he checked Lovino for any injuries. "Huh...but I swear, I just saw you…" Antonio trailed off, unsure of what he had just seen now. His feisty Italian _did_ look perfectly fine. Maybe his eyes were deceiving him?

Lovino only rolled his eyes, annoyed. "You must be blind or something, bastard. I'm perfectly fine."

Antonio stared long and had at the Italian, before sighing heavily, his shoulders slumping. His bright, emerald eyes were filled with a strange emotion that Lovino couldn't quite put his finger on. "Lovi, I will always be here for you if something happens, you know. You can tell me anything."

Lovino felt a pang of guilt hit him as he saw the pleading look Antonio gave him. Right then and there, he wanted to spill out his heart and soul to that frustratingly adorable Spaniard, but he knew that he couldn't. It would only cause him to worry. "I already said it was nothing, asshole. Just go already, dammit," he quickly dismissed Antonio. He could fight his own battles...he'd show that idiot that he could protect himself. Besides, Lovino didn't want to be a burden...after all, Antonio was no longer his boss. He was independent now, he wasn't a little kid.

"...I see." The Spaniard answered slowly, "Then, call me right away if you need me, Lovi. I'll be right by your side if you yell really loud in under a second!"

"Tch. Yeah, yeah...as if I'd ever call your name."

He grinned brightly, "Well, I'll go to my room now! _Adios, mi tomate_!" Antonio smiled cheerfully and quickly ran out of the room, shutting the doors behind him before Lovino could headbutt him for calling him a tomato again.

"Damn bastard, I'm not a fucking tomato!" Lovino shouted after the retreating figure, which was now blocked from his sight because of the doors.

And then it was just him, the silence, and the darkness. The lights were already out after everyone had left the room, but now, with the doors closed, it was almost completely pitch black, save for the bit of evening light coming from outside from the windows.

Standing alone in the dark room, Lovino bit his bottom lip as tears streaked down his face, his right hand gripping his left arm tightly. As his whole body trembled, he whimpered a bit, hoping no one could hear him. It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Something was happening to Feliciano. He didn't know what exactly, but he felt his brother's pain in his left arm. Perhaps, whoever was doing whatever the fuck they were doing to Feli, it involved hurting his arm. Particularly his left arm. Lovino had been trying to hide it from everyone, pretending that he wasn't hurt at all until there was not a single person in sight.

...Not to mention, Antonio and everyone else was so intent on finding his younger brother, that they had never even thought that the South part of Italy could be in danger, too.

"G-Goddammit!" The Italian cursed under his breath as another wave of pain surged through his arm. His knees felt weak as he finally fell to the floor and curled up into a ball, hoping that all of the hurt and pain would just disappear. But it didn't. If anything, it had only intensified tenfold, making him whimper again as he tried to suppress his screams. His tears had blurred his vision, and he was forced to close them. It was so strange...whenever he was hurting, negative thoughts came to his mind. Memories flooded his brain.

It was always Feliciano. Everyone had always loved and cherished his cheerful, caring younger brother. Sweet and adorable, intelligent and talented, loved and wanted...Feliciano was perfect. North Italy was always favored by everyone.

'That's why they always call him Italy, and you Romano. Because you're not the real Italy. _He_ is.' A malicious voice whispered in his ears, making him flinch.

'No one ever wanted you. No one ever will.'

"Sh-Shut up, go away! Leave me the fuck alone!" Lovino screamed, using both of his hands to cover his ears, but the voice seemed to echo inside of his mind.

'I'm only telling you the truth, my dear poppet...'

"_NO YOU'RE NOT! S-SPAIN WANTED ME! HE TOLD ME THAT HE DID!_"

The voice was silent for a while, before he heard a small chuckle. 'Oh, how precious...did you not know? You can't trust him. You can't trust anyone. _He_ lied to you, not me.'

The Southern half of Italy hiccupped and sniffled, his whole body quaking in fear, pain, or paranoia, even he did not know himself. "W-What the hell are you talking about…?"

'Hehehe..you're so adorably gullible, you know that? Such a dearie...how can you believe that man's words? He never wanted you in the first place.' Lovino could almost hear the smirk in the voice as it spoke, 'When he first got you, he snuck off to Austria's house and practically _begged_ to trade you for Feliciano.'

There was a shocked, disbelieving silence before the Italian spoke up again. "..W-What?" Lovino asked, blinking the tears away. For some reason, the pain had weakened, and he only felt a slight throbbing in his left arm now.

'You heard me. I am only telling the truth. If you don't believe me, dear, you should go ask Austria yourself! After all, he's just right down the hall, isn't he?' The cheerful voice chirped. It was too _sickenly_ happy.

His heart was thumping at an unbelievable speed against his chest as he breathed heavily, heaving himself up into a sitting position. "I...I don't fucking believe you…" Lovino growled out. No, he didn't have any reason to doubt Antonio. After all, Antonio was always there for him when he was feeling sad, or even angry. And that was more than what he could say for everyone else around him.

'Then, like I said, go ask Austria! If you keep avoiding the truth, the only thing that will come to you will be pain and hurt, just like a minute ago~.'

Questions flooded his mind as he thought. Should he really ask the piano bastard? If he did, he would obviously be showing doubt in his trust for the Spaniard, but...what if the voice was right? Hell, he didn't even _recognize_ the voice, but...had Antonio _really _tried to trade him for his own brother when he was younger…? Better yet, how the hell did the voice know he was in so much pain?

Oh, _dio_, it couldn't be…

"Fuck you! You're the one who was hurting me a minute ago, aren't you?!"

He heard a faint giggle, 'Yes, I was! The whole time, actually! I wanted to get you alone so I could speak to you alone...after all, interferences would be bad, yes?'

He sighed a sigh of relief, slumping against the desk behind him, feeling ten times better now that he knew nothing bad had actually happened to Feliciano.

"...What the hell do you want from me?"

'Oh, how you wound me so! I don't want anything from you, I just wanted to help you find out the truth behind that bastard of a Spaniard! He can't be trusted, you hear me? He's just messing with your poor feelings! In the end, he'll leave you, just like everyone else! You just have to ask Austra, poppet! Go on, ask him! Then you'll see that you truly don't belong there...you belong with me. With _us_.' The voice said, echoing in his mind.

As if he was hypnotized, Lovino dazedly agreed. "Fine...I...I'll go ask. Just once, you hear me?! And then you will leave me the fuck alone if you're lying, you shithead!" He huffed angrily before standing up, feeling normal again. His body no longer hurt. He wiped the few stray tears away from his face and with a huff, he felt determined.

Slamming the doors open, he walked down the hall, wondering which room the aristocratic snob prince chose. Probably the high class one, the last room at the end of the hall.

Knocking lightly on the door, he called out, "Oi, stupid prick. It's me. Open the door, I need to fucking talk with you."

After waiting for a few moments, the door was unlocked and opened by none other than Roderich himself, which wasn't a surprise for Lovino. Of course he had chosen the high class room...of _course. _

Roderich glared at the Italian, "What is it?"

"Let me in. This is gonna be one hell of a talk, bastard." Lovino stated, before pushing the less-than-happy Austrian to the side and welcoming himself into the room, settling himself down on the sofa.

The other nation had locked the door once again, sitting right across from the Italian with an annoyed expression on his face. Crossing his legs, he asked again, "What would you like to discuss with me about?"

"...Spain," came Lovino's now meek and small voice. He stared at the floor again, twiddling with his fingers nervously. He was going to ask. He was testing his trust with the tomato bastard.

"What about that idiotic imbecile?"

He took a deep breath and began, "W-Well...When I was young...did he, uh, go to your house and beg to trade Italy for me?" Lovino asked hesitantly, almost afraid to hear the answer. Antonio was honestly the only other person besides his brother that he trusted with his whole being, he could almost say that he l-loved him. _Almost._

_Please don't let it be fucking true. Please don't let it be true, goddammit._

Roderich leaned back into the sofa, sighing a bit. "Yes, he did. What of it?"

For a second, Lovino thought his blood had run cold, and his heart had stopped beating. _Antonio tried to trade me for Feliciano. Just like everyone else. _

The Italian gulped, trying to keep calm as he spoke, "Do you...remember what he said?" His voice was wavering as his hands became fists.

"Hm...it was something along the lines of, 'Please trade Ita-chan for Romano! He's so cute! All Romano does is sit at home and break everything!' or something. But of course, I had declined."

Lovino abruptly stood up, his head facing down to the ground. "...I see." He stated emotionlessly, walking towards the door. "..Thanks for telling me."

And then he walked out, closing the door behind him.

To say that his heart and soul had been easily shattered in just a few minutes was an understatement. No, it was much more than just shattered. It was as if someone had ripped his heart and soul from his body and shredded it to infinite pieces.

_Antonio never wanted me. He was lying. Lying all of this time...all this time, he was only using me to get closer to Feliciano. I should have known. I should have __**fucking**_ _known it all along! He's the same as everyone else...I can't trust anyone…_

'Aww...are you crying again, poppet?' The voice was back. 'Don't cry...I'm here for you. You can trust me, after all! I told you the truth, didn't I?'

Lovino instinctively touched his face, only to feel tears running down his cheeks. "I...I didn't realize I was fucking crying…" He mumbled, face red.

'It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here for you. You should go to your bedroom. If you do, I can help you. Don't you want to leave now? Leave this world completely?'

"W-What? Are you implying I commit suicide, bastard?!"

'Oh, no! That's not what I meant at all, sweetie! I meant, I have the power to transport you to me. After all, you don't want to be there anymore, right? Not with all of these liars and traitors that mess with your feeling, am I correct?'

The Southern Italian slowly nodded, realizing that, yes, the voice was right. He didn't want to stay with anyone here, not anymore. Everyone here never liked him. They only pretended to, to make Feliciano happy.

".._.Si_."

'Then what are you waiting for? Go on, go to your room! I'll always be here for you!'

With that thought in his mind, he absentmindedly walked to his own room on the second floor of the building, walking up the stairs.

* * *

Antonio was walking down the hall, humming lightly to himself as he did so. He was just returning from the bathroom, taking his sweet time getting back to his own room. Since the room that he picked out didn't have a restroom, he had to go to the one that was near the conference room. Tomorrow, he'd send a few of his troops (under a thousand, actually) to search throughout Spain for Italy. Who knows, maybe Feli had randomly decided that he wanted to visit his country, right?

...Well, okay, maybe not. Germany was more likely of a choice for the Northern Italian to visit, but it didn't hurt to check, right? Ahaha~.

As he turned the corner, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure walking up the stairs. His eyes brightened almost immediately before he quickly followed suit, hoping to catch another conversation with his beloved Lovino.

He didn't dare call out for him, though. If he did, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore! That would be no fun…

Lovino seemed to be walking towards his room, and Antonio made a mental note of that. He silently snooped up the stairs, peeking his head around another corner as the Italian turned left. His shoes didn't make a squeak on the floor, it was almost like a miracle. Silence enveloped the hallway, not a sound or any sign of life besides each other were seen.

Finally, Lovino stopped in front of a door and began to try to find his key, fumbling with the many items in his pockets.

This was Antonio's chance!

Running quickly now, he approached the undefended Italian and glomped him happily, smiling. "Lo~vi!"

"Don't touch me," a quiet voice said. It had sounded so demanding, so hurt, but most of all...so _threatening_.

Startled with his tone of voice, Antonio let go, concern shining in his features. "Lovi? Are you alright?" He asked, reaching to out grab the Italian's hand

_SLAP!_

"I...I said, don't _fucking touch me!_ You fucking _bastard_!" Lovino hissed, venom dripping through his every word. He had slapped the Spaniard's hand away, not even bothering to apologize. His emerald green orbs were filled with anger and anguish.

Antonio did not know what had happened. His Lovino was doing just fine a few moments ago, so why…? He knew the Italian would _never_ actually do anything harmful to him, and he was quite used to his cursing and his 'bastard'-calling, but...never had it sounded like he actually meant it. This only worried the Spaniard even more as he held his own hand, staring at Lovino in shock.

"L-Lovi? Lovi, what happened? Did I do something wrong?"

Antonio saw red flash through Lovino's eyes as he finally looked up at him, their eyes locking. The Italian's face was twisted in absolute fury and rage as he scowled.

"Did you do something wrong? Hah! Don't make me fucking _laugh,_ you asshole! You're a _good-for-nothing liar_, you're just like everyone else! You don't have to pretend you like me anymore, you _son of a bitch_! You're really just using me to get to Feliciano, isn't that right?!" He spat out, every word and curse making Antonio flinch.

Antonio knew that Lovino meant every word, but what he didn't know was _why?_ Why would his Lovinito think such a thing?

"I...I don't know what you're talking about, _mi amor_. This has nothing to do with Feli-chan-"

"Shut the fuck up! I don't need your stupid lies anymore! I'm _leaving_!"

With those words, Lovino unlocked his door and opened it, storming in. He was about to slam the door in Antonio's face, but the older male had already stopped it with his foot, pushing the door open again.

"Lovino, what's wrong?! I don't know what made you think that way, but I sincerely mean it when I say that I am not pretending to be nice to you to get Feli-chan! Who I really want and love is _you,_ and it has always been _you!_" He exclaimed, desperation in his voice. "I swear to _dio,_ Lovino! I love you! _Te amo_!"

Antonio's heart was thumping quickly. He had just confessed his love to Lovino. He wasn't actually going to do it, but, he was just so desperate that it slipped out. There was silence on the other side of the door for a while, as if the younger male was thinking. Hope began to bloom in the Spaniard's chest. This meant that Lovino was at least considering his words-

"Tell it to somebody who will actually believe you and _cares,_ bastard."

Antonio was roughly pushed out of the room, and the door slammed shut. The click of a lock was heard.

He was absolutely devastated and broken hearted. What did he do wrong? Why was Lovino acting this way?

With a sinking feeling in his chest, he knew there was nothing else he could do at this point. Brushing off dirt that was never on his shirt in the first place, he began his trek down the stairs and back to his room.

The night was uneventful. A few tears escaped his eyes, a few choked sobs here and there. Antonio had curled up in his bed and surrendered himself to sleep, wondering what had happened to his precious Lovino.

Maybe, just maybe, if he had known that Lovino was going to disappear the very next morning, he wouldn't have left the Italian alone right after being rejected…

* * *

Hoo, boy. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait, everyone. I had major writer's block. I had an idea of what I wanted to write, but I just didn't know how to write it. I mean, it played in my head so perfectly, but when it came to actually writing it, my mind blanked out completely. So excuse me for the horribly-written ending.

I also decided that this story will have a main pairing that it will evolve around, and that pairing is **Spamano. **Spamano is my OTP, and I also roleplay as Lovino, so I just found it a bit easier for me.

So if anyone has a problem with Spamano being the main focus, I can only say I'm sorry to disappoint you. However, I will start writing in first-person point of view starting the next chapter, I believe. But don't worry, all of the other pairings will be here as well. :)

I appreciate all of the reviews, it really does motivate me to write the next chapter. Anyways, thank you for your support, and I hope to see everyone in the next chapter.

~Kawaii Dream


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